Chapters (87)
- Cover
- Praise
- Dedication
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Sixty-Two
- Sixty-Three
- Sixty-Four
- Sixty-Five
- Sixty-Six
- Sixty-Seven
- Sixty-Eight
- Sixty-Nine
- Seventy
- Seventy-One
- Seventy-Two
- Seventy-Three
- Seventy-Four
- Seventy-Five
- Seventy-Six
- Seventy-Seven
- Seventy-Eight
- Seventy-Nine
- Eighty
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgements
- Extract from To Keep You Safe
- About the Author
I stop at my usual coffee stand. It is parked up on the wide pavement that delineates Hove Lawns and the busy Brighton seafront road; in another hour the traffic will be heavily crawling as the crowds arrive. I order a hot chocolate and a flat white for breakfast, extra hot with oat milk and, to celebrate, I buy two almond croissants. ‘For me and my grandson,’ I smile as I pay. Jack is always my grandson now; I can find the answers if people bring the questions.
The barista gets to work and I turn my back on him briefly to check first on Jack and then look out across the crashing waves. It feels so good to be back in what feels my spiritual home.
I accept the croissants in a paper bag. Although Jack doesn’t know it, I deserve a treat today: today marks one year of sobriety for me. Coffee is all I allow myself now. I’ve never had a problem with alcohol, but treatment has helped me understand that I don’t want to swap one problem for another.
Treatment has helped me understand a lot, not least that I don’t need to be afraid of anything anymore. All my life I’ve been afraid of something. But not now. All the monsters are gone.
My new therapist, Anya, is such a toughie. She questions my version of events all the time, making me reflect differently on it all. I blurred over the edges of my substance misuse, but she’s encouraged me to recognise what I already knew – that I only started taking codeine as a way of coping with my son. When my mother died, it was a major setback, and, whilst I can’t rule out another catastrophe in my life yet to come, we do agree that being prepared is part of the battle. I wasn’t prepared for what happened to my mum, but that’s not an excuse though – many in my situation wouldn’t have made my mistakes.
My mistakes are my mine only and I own them.
Many would’ve coped better with Jack than I did. I say his name all the time now. Many, many people deal with challenging children, and many do better than me. They are my heroes. I think, if he’d been born now, I would’ve done better. I think there would be a support group for parents like me; I think I could’ve learnt new coping strategies – even if I couldn’t have changed Jack’s behaviour, I think I could have possibly found a better way to deal with it than simply to retreat from it.